Mortal Fear
by TwilightBloodBell
Summary: It's been 10 years since Claire last saw Steve die. Now she receives a call that sends her straight back to Antarctica. Between some remnants left of the dead Wesker, and the nightmares of misery, will she ever find Steve?


Mortal Fear  
Chapter 1  
~The Calling~  
Rated: Mature  
Rated For: Language, violence, blood, tabacco, disturbing materials, nudity, and sexuality.

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The pressure crushed around my chest and stomach as the green appendage wrapped me in it's clutches. It liften me into the air, the smell of a rainforest wafting past my nose as I felt my entire body begin to shake. I slowly looked up, looking upon the man I once knew. His blaring red eyes locked on mine, and I suddenly saw the slightest indication that he was still Steve.

He suddenly wheeled around and rammed the ax down on the tenticle, which immedately dropped me as the nerves disconnected. I crashed to the stone floor, and looked up, just in time to see the tenticle thrash straight through Steve's chest. As blood spewed, his body soared against the wall, and he crumpled to the ground.

"Steve!" I screamed as I bolted up on my bed. My face was drenched in sweat, and I sat there panting as I tried to calm down. For the past ten years, I've been experiencing the same exact thing every single night, and it was beginning to drive me completely insane. I don't understand why, after so many years, I still have to go through this nightmare over and over again.

My head sunk into my hands, and I could feel my clammy hands against my soaked face. I guess you could say I've been having night terrors. But why, why am I still forced to think about this? He died! I watched him die! I felt him die...so why?

I lifted my head slowly, and looked to the nightstand beside my bed. The date was April 14 of 2010, and it was only four in the morning. With a huff, I got out of my bed, and decided I would get dressed. I just pulled out some blue jeans and a black shirt, and I threw them on. I tossed my long hair in a pony tail, and headed down stairs.

"Good morning, Claire." Chris, my brother, said as I reached the kitchen downstairs. He was sitting there eatting a few bagels before work. He now had a job with Leon as a cop in this town, and yes, they've had the job for the past three months.

"So, you have that huge drug bust to do today with Leon, don't you?" I asked him.

"Yeah." Chris nodded. He took a bite of his bagel. "Jill will be over later, alright? She's coming back from her sleep over with Rebecca."

I nodded. We've all been very connected since Wesker's death. We live in Lynx City, spend time together, everything. I guess that's what happens when you come together after having dealt with so much.

I took a seat in the chair next to Chris, who looked at me, that familiar sting still settled in his eyes. It was that look that said, "Will you ever feel better, Claire?" even though he knew the answer.

With a sigh, Chris stood up. He lightly pat my shoulder. "Have a good day Claire."

I pat his hand gently. "You too Chris."

And with that, he stuffed his handgun in his holster, and headed out the door. Once the door shut, I looked down, and started absently picking at the tabel's wood. I knew he left the food he was eating there for two reasons; one was so I'd finish it, and the other was to give me something to clean up afterwards, to try to keep my mind off things. He always tried to help me feel better, and it just makes me feel worse, knowing that I can't thank him by feeling better.

I pulled the plate of half eaten bagels toward me, and picked up one. I started eating one, as I glanced up at the clock. It haven't even been ten minutes since I got up. As I chewed the bagel, I glanced at today's newpaper, which was sprawled across the table. I begun reading an article about some girl who robbed a store at gunpoint for $20 that sat in the cash register. When I begun eating the second bagel, the phone suddenly rung.

I looked up, and then placed the bagel down. I stood up and walked over to the phone. I pulled it off the wall, and held it to my ear. "Hello?" I asked.

I heard a crackling sound from the other end, and then a voice I could barely understand because the connection was very choppy. "Cl..re...is...Nic..lai...Ant..ctic...infe...bar..y...li..v...can...ple..s...help...go...under...ing...dow...St..ve..."

The call cut, and I felt the entire world spin. I could have sworn that I heard his name...Steve. I could have sworn it! But, that can't be. He's dead...

I hung up the phone, which I stood there holding in my shock. I then backed up a couple paces, only for my book to hook on the tabel's leg. The world rushed by as I fell backward, not even moving to try to break my own fall. I landed with my back on the floor, and I stared up at the ceiling. I could barely make out anything in that call...let's see. Claire...Antarctica, maybe? Please help...Steve...

I sat up ubruptly, my hands gripping my shin as I sat Native style. Now I know it said Steve...I know it did. And in Antarctica? Should I...?

I got up on my feet, and ran up the stairs, to my room. I stared in the mirror, still seeing Steve against the wall, the axe at his throat, the blood spraying from his neck, just before he transformed so panfully...

Something is really telling me that Steve is still alive. I need to find out for myself...I need him. I knelt down in the closet to my right, and grabbed a denim blue backpack. I pulled it out, and set it beside me. I then stood, and pulled a couple spare changes of clothes from the hangers, and I placed them in the backpack. I then pulled my biker jacket from a hanger, and pulled it on, the long sleeves covering my wrists. I pulled on my black leather gloves, then pulled on my boots. Then I threw the backpack over my shoulder, and walked out of my room.

I headed down the hall, and opened the door to Chris' bedroom. I walked in, and over to the large gun cabinet in the corner of the room. I pulled my keys out from the backpack I had, and I stuffed the key to the gun cabinet's lock. When I opened the door, I saw a huge arangement of perfectly organized weaponry. I pulled out a holster belt, and I looked it through my jeans. I then reached in, and grabbed two hand guns, and placed one in each holster. I then grabbed a shotgun and a rifle, and I strapped them over my back. I then reached down, and pulled some cartons of ammunition out, then placed them in the backpack I had.

Once I was done, I closed up the gun cabinet, zipped up my back, and left Chris' room. It was time I gave Sherry a call.

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I'll probably update this one a bit slowly because I'm going to be working on my Pokemon story, but none the less I hope you all enjoy this!


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